


Beat the Bat

by FleetSparrow



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-25 23:48:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18712174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetSparrow/pseuds/FleetSparrow
Summary: The Joker has caught Batman and Robin.





	Beat the Bat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [geckoholic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoholic/gifts).



Joker’s face filled the TV screens of the millions of Gothamites who had tuned into the nightly news.

“Wha-da-dadadada—Fact! Besides being a genius, I’m quite a guy. Everybody likes me! That’s why I’m giving you the chance to Beat the Batman!”

Joker hopped back, revealing Batman bound in chains hanging from a catwalk. Robin was tied to the catwalk above, able to do nothing but watch.

“Have you ever had a grievance with the Batman? Maybe he roughed up your husband during some petty thievery. Maybe he broke your jaw during a little misunderstanding. Maybe you just think it’s time to see him get what’s his. In whatever case, you get to choose what to do with him!”

A number appeared on the screen.

“Just call this number and your every whim will be met!”

The screen cut to a phone bank manned by Harley. “Beat the Bat! Whaddya wanna do to ‘im?” she asked, answering one of the seven ringing phones. “Hit him in the gut with a baseball bat? Sure thing!”

Joker picked up a slugger, bouncing it as if testing its weight, and swung. It hit with a sickening thud.

Batman swung in the chains, desperately trying to breathe again. He had led Robin right into this trap. He hadn’t been thinking clearly since Bruce died and he’d taken over as Batman. But still, he should have been better than this. He shouldn’t have let them be taken.

“Beat him with a crowbar,” Harley called.

“Ooh, that’s irony, fellas!” Joker picked up his weapon from the small arsenal by his feet and swung at Batman’s head.

Batman turned his head just as the crowbar struck, glancing off the helmet built into the cowl. It still hurt.

“Whip him in the face!”

Batman flinched.

“Hit him with a cattle prod!”

Batman bit his cheek to stop himself from screaming.

“Brand him with a hot iron!”

Batman couldn’t help that scream.

The pain was endless, minute after minute of violence from the villains of Gotham through the most sadistic of them all.

“Take off his mask!”

Joker bowed to his television audience. “And now, for my final act, the big reveal!”

The chains lowered Batman down to the ground until he was on his knees. Joker skipped behind him and grabbed his cowl.

“Ready, Batsy?” he whispered. “Smile for the camera!”

A yell came from up above, followed by a blur of red as Robin swooped down onto Joker. While everyone had been focused on torturing Batman, Robin had been able to free himself. He landed on Joker’s shoulders with an audible crack. Joker yelled in pain and collapsed behind Batman.

Robin threw a bola line at Harley as she came running, tripping her up until she fell flat on her face. Joker’s other goons came running at him, but several batarangs kept them at bay.

He pulled the mini torch from his glove and started working on the chains around Batman.

“The car is coming,” he said, firing through the chain. Batman groaned, but said nothing.

Robin hoisted Batman onto his shoulders, half-carrying, half-dragging him out to the waiting Batmobile. Batman mustered enough energy to fall into the car. Robin hopped in after him and punched in the code for home. Police sirens wailed behind them as the GCPD came to collect Joker and his gang.

Inside the car, Dick pulled off his cowl. He grabbed at his side where the “J” brand had burned him. His suit peeled off, leaving strands of fabric clinging to his skin.

Damian watched Dick as he picked at his suit. His fingers didn’t seem to respond to him, their grip neither precise nor strong enough. Damian reached over and helped peel away the fabric.

“Grayson,” Damian said. “How hurt are you?”

Dick managed a weak smile. “I’m alright, Damian.”

“No, you’re not.”

Dick’s smile fell. “Batman doesn’t let on about being hurt.”

Damian clicked his tongue. “Grayson, that’s foolish.”

“It’s the Bat way,” he said. He dropped a hand onto Damian’s head to ruffle his hair, landing harder than he’d intended. “Don’t worry, Damian. I’m all right.”

Damian stared hard at him, but said nothing the rest of the way home.

Alfred was there waiting for them when they returned, and he and Damian helped Dick to the medical area.

“I was watching,” Alfred said, when Dick started to explain his injuries. Dick snorted.

“You and the rest of Gotham.”

“You’ll give Father a bad name at this rate, Grayson,” Damian said.

“Hit the showers, Robin,” Dick growled, unconsciously slipping into his Batman voice. Damian huffed, but left.

“It was rather disconcerting,” Alfred said, helping Dick out of the heavy costume.

“I know. Believe me.” Dick sighed. “I walked right into it, too. Bruce wouldn’t be proud.”

Alfred squeezed his shoulder. “He was prouder than you know.”

His ministrations done, Alfred sent Dick up to bed, his chest bandaged and braced. Dick went to Bruce’s room, having taken it to feel closer to his lost mentor. He settled in and closed his eyes, willing sleep to come.

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes later when the bedroom door opened.

“Grayson? Are you asleep?”

Dick inhaled sharply. “No, Damian.”

“That’s very naughty, Grayson. You should be asleep.”

Dick’s lips quirked up in a smile. “Is there something you need?”

“I was just checking on you,” Damian said. “You don’t take enough care of yourself.”

“I suppose not,” Dick said, opening his eyes. He sat up and patted the bed beside him. “Join me?”

“If you insist on having company, Grayson,” Damian said, climbing up onto the big bed. “You must have nightmares,” he said. “I never have nightmares.”

“Never? Wow. You must have strong dreams.”

“Yes, I’m quite strong, you see.”

Dick smiled. “You sure are.” He shifted and let out a gasp of pain. Damian looked sharply at him.

“Grayson, you must stop moving so much,” he said, trying to push Dick back down into a lying position. “You’ll do yourself more harm.”

Dick settled back down, frowning. “I’m OK.”

“No, Grayson, you’re not.” Damian put a hand on Dick’s forehead. “You’re not like Father, Grayson. You’re fragile.”

Dick snorted. “Bruce was no less fragile than me.”

Damian pouted and fluffed the pillow beneath Dick’s head. Dick sighed.

“Alright, Damian. I’ll rest.”

“Good.” Damian settled back down into the bed. “I shall instruct Pennyworth to bring your breakfast up to you. I shall patrol as Batman tomorrow.”

Dick bit back a laugh. “Don’t worry. I’ll be able to go out tomorrow. Besides, we don’t have a suit that fits you.”

“I’ll wear lifts,” Damian said, as if that solved everything.

Dick ruffled Damian’s hair. “Go to sleep, Damian. Sweet dreams.”

“Have no nightmares, Grayson. Be strong.”

“I will, Damian. Goodnight.”

“Yes, goodnight, Grayson.” Damian tucked his head beneath Dick’s shoulder and fell asleep.


End file.
